The Commander's Collar

CHAPTER 8-- THE COMMANDER WITHOUT FEMALES

LYRA ARDEN

I spent three days trying not to cross paths with any Beast I considered dangerous. On the fourth, Malric transferred me to Kael Varek's wing.

"No," I said.

Malric kept writing on his clipboard as if I were not there.

"It wasn't a question."

I started walking around him, trying to get his attention.

"I... I was doing perfectly well in the kitchen."

I tried to find arguments against his decision, but he always found a way around every one of them.

"You dropped a tray yesterday."

"It was just one tray... you can't remove me from my post because of that..."

He sighed, already irritated.

"The commander requested additional service."

When he said that, I felt cold inside.

"He asked for me?"

The pen stopped moving, and Malric slowly raised his eyes.

"Do you have any reason to think that would be a problem?"

More than a thousand, I thought, but I could not tell him.

"No..."

"Good. Then stop looking guilty before someone invents a reason for the guilt."

That was better advice than he probably intended to give me.

""

Kael's wing was on the northern side of the fortress. There was less decoration there, less perfume and distraction, and far more soldiers. Not a single woman crossed the corridor while I was there.

Not one.

After days of seeing collars everywhere, the absence was the first thing that caught my attention. An older servant handed me clean clothes and pointed to a silver table.

"Meals go there. Documents? You never touch them. And the inner door is only opened when he tells you to."

"And the women?"

The man stared at me.

In the other wings, I would already have been given information about how I should act around the times they came and went, but there... it did not seem relevant.

"What?"

I simply looked away as if I had asked something I should not have.

"Nothing."

Neria explained later. Kael Varek did not keep personal females.

He did not keep concubines.

And he certainly did not visit the common rooms where commanders and officers could choose company from among people bound to the palace.

"They say he hates being touched," Neria told me quietly.

"What do you mean?" I answered while pretending to work, cleaning a dirty corner of the floor.

"They say he refused three high-bloodline females offered by the council."

"Offered as gifts?"

"As breeding arrangements."

Kael frightened me more because he did nothing. Other men usually stared, laughed, touched. He only watched from a distance.

It was like being studied by a predator that had not yet decided whether I was a threat, food, or a problem. When I entered a room, his eyes went first to my hands, then my neck, then my face. They never lingered on my body the way Cassian's or Drevan's did. Even so, I felt every look more strongly. Maybe because I did not know what he was looking for. Or maybe because some shameful part of me had begun to realize that I wanted to find out.

The brush I held to scrub the floor stopped in midair.

"And that's normal?"

She looked at me.

"Are you still asking that question?"

I was starting to realize I should stop.

But that afternoon, I had to take tea to his office.

Kael was standing by the window, reading a report.

"Put it there."

I did and made to leave, then he spoke.

"Wait."

My entire body went alert. He had not even raised his eyes from the paper.

"What herb is that?"

Panic is an interesting thing. It's funny how it can make your mind go blank exactly when you need it most.

"Which one, sir?"

Kael raised his face and looked at me.

"On you."

I forced my expression into something calm and bored, anything that might mask the terror nearly taking over me.

"I work in the kitchen... I think there are at least twenty herbs on me."

"No. It isn't food seasoning."

His voice was low as he came closer.

He took one step, then another.

I felt the back of my neck begin to sweat.

He stopped at a distance that would still have been acceptable between two men, but close enough for me to notice details I did not want to notice. His absurd size, the scar in his eyebrow. The almost amber shade at the center of his dark irises. His scent—something woody, leather, something warm my body registered before my mind did.

My heartbeat quickened.

What the hell...

"It's... insect repellent," I lied, trying to gain space by taking a step back.

One eyebrow rose.

"In winter?"

"Insects don't respect seasons, sir..."

His mouth almost moved. Maybe he found something about the situation amusing. I could not tell.

Then he tilted his head slightly and smelled me.

Not like a dog.

Much worse.

It was like someone evaluating information. And I was forced not to pull away if I wanted to maintain the disguise.

I needed to do something to draw his attention away from it or he would end up discovering everything.

So I started talking.

"Do you ask all the slaves these things?" I asked, trying not to hold eye contact too long.

"No..." The answer came sharp. "And you talk too much for one..."

I swallowed, nervous, but at least I was managing to redirect his attention.

"I've been told..."

"Keep going, and one day someone will cut out your tongue." When he said it, something inside me tightened, half regretting my own words, but then I saw his eyes drop to my mouth.

It was a quick look, but I noticed.

Suddenly a shiver ran through my body, one that had nothing to do with fear.

It irritated me so much that I managed to forget my panic for a second. Kael looked irritated too.

With me or perhaps with himself, I did not know.

Then he stepped away.

"Leave."

I obeyed.

Only when the door closed did I realize how tense I was. When I turned to look around, I saw two soldiers in the corridor talking quietly while watching me from the corner of their eyes.

"He asked for the pretty little human?"

"He did..."

"Commander Varek?"

"That's right..."

"Maybe the world really is ending."

"Or maybe the boy is just that good..."

They started laughing like two idiots. I walked past without looking, but the words stuck to me.

Kael had no females. No concubines.

And yet he had transferred me to his wing after smelling me. It was difficult to decide which possibility frightened me more:

that he knew what I was, or that he did not know and was interested anyway.

That night, I found a new order pinned to my door: beginning the next morning, I would serve exclusively in Varek's wing.

The problem was that my herb paste was nearly gone, and I did not know how long it would take before I managed to improvise more. I had found some similar herbs in the garden, but I had no idea whether they would work.